


Draco Dormiens Nunquam T̶i̶t̶i̶l̶l̶a̶n̶d̶u̶s̶ Oscula

by Snarry5evr



Series: Slytherins and Gryffindors (Or Potters and Malfoys) [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, First Time, Gryffindor Scorpius Malfoy, M/M, Mentions Of Infidelity, Mentions of Draco/OC, Mostly EC, Not CC compliant, Not really bashing though, RST, Scorpius & James Friendship, Slytherin Albus Severus Potter, Top Ron, UST, Very Minor, brief ron/hermione, minor Hermione bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:44:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarry5evr/pseuds/Snarry5evr
Summary: With a little help and some Slytherin cunning, even a Gryffindor can get their Slytherin.When Draco's chance to claim his own Gryffindor comes along he grabs it with both hands. And not even Weasley's stubborn nature will keep this Slytherin away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Never kiss a sleeping dragon
> 
> More thanks to my awesome beta, Dannielle.

Draco Malfoy did not care what house his son was sorted into, so long as the boy was accepted, and able to make friends despite his surname. This did not however, lessen the shock when, twelve hours after putting his only child on the train to school, his former Head of House appeared in his floo.

“Malfoy,” came the familiar drawl.

Draco stepped from this bedroom into his private study to see a familiar dark head in his fireplace. “Snape? Is everything okay? Scorpius?”

“Is fine. I thought I’d tell you in person: he was sorted Gryffindor.”

Draco wasn’t sure how he managed to find a chair so easily as he slumped into it. “Gryff- but how? What? That’s-” He blinked over at the head. “That’s like a Potter in Slytherin.”

“That happened, too,” the man replied in his usual bored drawl.

“What?” Draco stared in silence for several minutes. “You’ll keep an eye on him, won’t you, Severus?”

The man rolled his eyes. “He won’t like it, but yes. I didn’t let  _ you  _ go to ruin, did I?”

Snape’s head disappeared, leaving Draco to sit in stunned silence for nearly half an hour until he burst into gales of laughter. Father would not be happy about this.

After months of reading about “James this” and “James that,” Draco was not surprised to receive an owl from the Savior himself asking if the precious Malfoy heir might like to spend a few days with the whirlwind of red-haired Weasels. Draco supposed he might as well give in, as well as reciprocate, especially as Scorpius had started to become bored with their annual trip to Bristol. Unfortunately, between the visit to the Burrow and the trip to Bristol, Draco had to listen to his son wax on about the Weasleys: their numerous cousins and god-siblings as well as all the aunts and uncles. (Mr. Charlie tames dragons, Father. Mr. George is always inventing new things. Mr. Ron took us out to the back field, and let us play with some of the new products not even on the market, and look what he gave me. He kept giving me odd looks though.) Astoria was giving  _ him _ an odd look right now, as well.

Draco was called to the school three times Scorpius’s second year, no thanks to the Potter brat leading his son astray. He made sure Potter knew who was to blame. The trouble started that summer when Scorpius returned from his week with the Potters with the news that something was off in the household. James confirmed this later when he came for his visit, and told them his parents were getting a divorce. Draco vaguely wondered if Snape knew yet.

Scorpius’s third year was a lot calmer.  Though Draco wasn’t sure if this was because his son was growing up, becoming more Slytherin and thus less likely to get caught, or if Snape was losing his touch. Draco knew the man was distracted by his weekly visits with the Chosen One.

That summer, Scorpius joined the Potter brood in Greece, and they would be heading to France in August. Thankfully, Astoria had gone ahead with her sister for “bonding” time. Things had become even more strained in their relationship since Scorpius had come out to them just after school let out. He could tell by the daggers she glared at him, Astoria felt it was his fault. Pouf begets pouf. Maybe this would finally push her to the divorce he’d been seeking for for years. To celebrate his week of solitude, he invited Snape over for a drink.

“I’m fucked.”

Draco glanced lazily over at Snape who was uncharacteristically frowning down into his whiskey. “Do tell,” Draco drawled. “It’s been so long, I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.”

Snape snorted. “I wanted to ask him if we could continue having drinks during the summer, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. What if I’m just a way for him to keep tabs on his son?”

“Does he have weekly meetings with the Heads of House for his other kids?”

Snape shot Draco a look. “Probably. It’s Longbottom.”

Ah, yes. Draco had forgotten his own son’s Head of House was Neville Longbottom. “Well, maybe he’ll come back when school starts,” Draco said, trying to be reassuring. It wasn’t often the two Slytherins mentioned ‘The Gryffindor Secret’ as Draco was wont to call it, usually only when they could be assured no one would overhear, and alcohol was involved.

Snape sighed. “I suppose I’m weak enough to take it.”

“At least you have his friendship,” Draco said, the words slipping out without thought. Snape shot him a sympathetic look. “Don’t,” Draco growled.

The man nodded, and looked away.

“Besides,” Draco nodded, “do you really want a relationship with Potter? Can you imagine how many Weasleys that would involve?”

Severus snorted, knowing exactly how many Weasleys Draco would like to be involved with.

What surprised Draco was the way she did it. He’d hardly seen his wife at all during the vacation, taking the boys out sightseeing and to a few nice muggle restaurants for dinner. Someone had to refine the Potter brat, after all. It was the last night of their vacation, and Draco was relaxing in front of the fireplace, catching up on the day’s news when Astoria walked in.

“I’m staying in Paris, Draco,” she told him. “You may have the lawyers draw up papers when you return. If you’ll let me keep this apartment you can keep the-“ she paused, thinking, “I believe the flat in Soho and the cabin in Bristol were to go to me at the dissolution of the marriage. You may keep them in exchange for this place.”

Draco sneered at her. “Not going to give up the alimony are you, Astoria?”

“It stops upon the event of my remarriage, doesn’t it?” He nodded. “Then you won’t be paying it for long.”

“I see. All ready to give me that divorce now you’ve got something better,” he sneered.

She glared at him. “As if the divorce would have done  _ you  _ any good, Draco. He’s married. She’ll never let him go. You’ll only ever have your pathetic crush.” Her tone was laced with that venomous sneer she only ever used when referencing the man Draco adored above all others.

“Get out,” he sneered at her.

She huffed, and left the room.

He’d asked Astoria regularly for a divorce over the last ten years, and she had always refused. The marriage had, of course, been arranged by his mother, and the two had tried to make a good go of it. Astoria had even been faithful until Scorpius had been born. He supposed he was partly to blame. He had visited Astoria’s bed regularly during their first year of marriage; but after Scorpius had been born, he’d fallen out of the habit. By that time, he’d been in a steady relationship with Eric. Eric had stuck around for almost five years, but when it became apparent Astoria would not give up being Lady of the Manor, and Draco would not be granted a divorce, Eric had left. Draco wasn’t even sure what the issue had been; he couldn’t have married Eric, and he wasn’t sleeping with Astoria. He’d let the man go. He’d met Alex a few years after that, and had come to an amiable agreement with the man regarding semi-regular meet ups.  No more relationships for Draco Malfoy, not when he was still married. So the question now was: could he move forward in a relationship with Alex? Except, he hadn’t even spoken to the man in months. And what if Alex started speaking of love? How do you explain to someone you were willing to be in a committed relationship with them, but could never love them? Draco tossed back his whiskey. No. Best just to let the non-existent relationship with Alex continue to fade. He wasn’t ready to put the energy into maintaining a relationship right now.

Now, he just had to break the news about the divorce to Scorpius.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco looked up at the short squat solicitor that was holding out the stack of papers. He grabbed them, and tossed them on his desk without looking at them. So this was it, then? He was a free man. Finally.

"That will be all, Collingsford," Draco dismissed the man, and turned towards the fire, his eye catching on the whiskey decanter. If he was going to celebrate, he wasn't going to celebrate alone. He strolled over to the fireplace, and took a pinch of Floo powder. "Severus Snape's office."

He stepped into the green fire, and came out in the familiar dark study. The man behind the desk glanced up.

"Congratulate me, Snape. I'm officially a failure."

The man dropped his quill. "Bloody hell." He stood, and went to his liquor cabinet. He came back, and pressed a glass in Draco's hand. "Let me go make arrangements for my detention. I'll be right back."

Draco held the glass up in a "cheers" motion. "I'll be right here."

The man stepped through his office door, and Draco poured the whiskey down his throat. Leave it to Snape to have top shelf alcohol in a school. He placed the glass on the end table, and wandered over to the potions cabinet.  It was locked, of course, but Draco wondered if it was still full of all those interesting, illegal ingredients he remembered from fourth year. Draco shrugged, and went back for his glass. He was almost there when there was a knock on the door, and it swung open. Draco had  _ known _ it was only a matter of time before he ran into the man, but he still wasn't prepared when Harry sodding Potter walked in holding a file, and looking damn fine in his Auror robes. He, of course, was hands off, not that Draco would ever lower himself to shag Potter, but he was a nice piece of eye candy. Lucky Snape.

"Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

Was that a flash of jealousy in those emerald orbs? "I'd ask the same of you, Potter. Did your son attempt to burn down the quidditch pitch and blame Scorpius again?"

The ex-Auror rolled his eyes. "James did not burn down the pitch, Malfoy. And he has never tried to push the blame off on Scorpius."

No. Scorpius always went willingly. Blindly following a Potter, like so many before him. Draco said as much.

"You made plenty of your own messes, Malfoy," 

_ Don’t I know it,  _ Draco thought with a silent sigh. "Wasn't talking about me, Potter," Draco spat.

"Boys." He looked over to see Snape had returned. Potter crossed the room, and shoved the file at Snape.

"There's your notes back on the Inferi. They were quite helpful." Potter cast a glare back at him. "Enjoy your evening, Snape."

Potter tried to push past their ex-professor, but the man grabbed his wrist, and pulled him close. He started a hushed conversation with the man, and Draco saw the younger man relax slightly. Potter pulled at Snape's buttons, and Draco almost gagged. Could they be any more obvious about the nature of their relationship? Another reason he could never be with Potter. It seemed the Chosen One was a bottom as well, if his submissive behavior was any indication. Of course, he'd always suspected Snape was a top.

"You two are going to have to learn to get along. You're both a part of my life now," Snape said sternly.

Draco nodded with a sigh.

"Okay, Severus, for you," Potter replied with a glare at Draco before he stepped from the room.

"Another drink, Draco?" Snape asked as he crossed the room to grab the bottle of Ogden's Finest.

"An entire bottle, thanks."

Snape refilled his glass instead. Draco grabbed it up, and collapsed onto a chair. Snape poured his own, and joined him in the opposite chair. "So it's over then?"

Draco took a sip. "Yup," he replied, popping the P.

"So what now?"

Draco studied the amber liquid in his glass. "I think I'm done with relationships for a while. Everything's kind of fizzled out with Alex anyway. No complications for a while."

"It'll be good for you," Snape assured him.

Draco downed the whiskey, and poured another. "I haven't told Father yet. I can just imagine the look he'll give me."

"It wasn't your fault, Draco," Snape reassured him.

"Wasn't it, though? I'm the one who couldn't bring himself to visit her bed after Ro- Scorpius was born. She's not the one that's been hung up on someone else for years. Dad will see this as one more failure. If he could hold a marriage together, why can't I?"

"Your father was in love with Narcissa for years before their betrothal. You did not have that luxury. Yours was purely a business arrangement. Businesses dissolve all the time.”

Draco sighed. "Why did  _ we _ never hook up?"

Snape snorted. This wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation. "Because you are not into dark, brooding, older men, and I do not go for the effeminate types. Besides…"

Draco nodded. "We're both hung up on Gryffindors." Draco raised his almost empty glass. "At least you got yours."

A coy smile crossed Snape's lips. "Yeah."

Draco rolled his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! I almost forgot to update.  
> Also, there's a line break with a reference to Carpe Diem Ch. 8 - this is a "cut scene" from part 1 where it gives a walkthrough of the villa. So if you haven't read either one of those and want to know the layout, there you go. Or you can just skip the whole thing and read on.

It wasn't the last time Draco and Potter ran into each other in Severus's office. Sometimes the three of them even sat down for an amiable glass of whiskey. Draco had just stepped from Snape's Floo for just such an evening to find his former Head of House seated in his usual chair, glass already in hand.

"Where's Potter?" Draco asked, not seeing the man.

Snape lifted his glass towards the bedroom door. A second later Potter appeared, half-naked. He wore muggle jeans that fit him nicely, and carried a pair of black dragon hide boots. He hadn't donned his shirt yet, and Draco got a nice view of exactly just how fit Harry Potter was, even at forty.

"It's not like I want to go, Sev," he was saying as he crossed the room to sit on the couch, not having seen Draco yet.  He set one boot down, and pushed his foot into the other. Draco watched the muscles play along his back. "It's just, they've been working on this case for months, and Jenkins wants my advice before they continue." He tied up the laces, his biceps bulging as he pulled. "This could be the big break they've been looking for." He reached for his other boot.

"I said it's okay, Potter. I understand. Draco, do you mind not ogling my lover?"

Potter's head shot up. "What?" He jerked around to finally see Draco. "Malfoy, you're early!"

"Hmm." Draco responded thoughtfully. "Obviously not."

Potter gave him a confused look, and went back to tying up his laces. He stood, and crossed over to Snape's chair and leaned over to whisper something to the man before pulling back, a shirt in his hand. He slipped it on over his head as he headed back towards the bedroom. Snape stood up.

"Help yourself, Malfoy. You know where it's at," Snape told him before following Potter into the room.

Draco walked over to the sideboard, and grabbed a glass and filled it. He settled into his usual chair just as Snape reappeared and sat down, grabbing his drink and quickly tossing it back.

Draco smirked, "Need another, Snape?"

Snape turned unfocused eyes on him, and blinked. "No."

A minute later Potter reappeared, his red Auror robes fit snug against his form. He was sliding his wand into a pocket. "I'm going to let Minerva know, and Floo from her office. I'll Floo back from the house if we get done tonight."

Draco watched the man leave, his robes accentuating his every move.

"You're ogling again," Snape said when Potter had closed the door behind him.

Draco shrugged unapologetically, and took a sip of his whiskey. "It's been a while. Not to mention he's _very_ fit."

"Mmm," Snape replied noncommittally.

"But I guess you already know that." Draco took another sip. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "if you and Potter ever decide to try a third, I'll gladly volunteer."

Snape looked over his glass at Draco, and raised an eyebrow, taking another sip.

Draco snickered. "Right. What was I thinking? Potter adventurous? I imagine he's a very vanilla lover."

"Imagine all you wish, Malfoy. You'll never know." Except Draco caught the faint blush on the Slytherin's cheeks, and studied the man with a smirk.

"Not so vanilla then. What's he into? BDSM? Roleplay?" Draco snorted as Snape's blush deepened. "Really? Potter likes to hear you call him daddy does he?"

Snape snorted as he shifted in his seat. "My sex life is none of your business, Malfoy."

"Oh come on, Snape. Let me live vicariously through you," he pleaded.

"No."

Draco rolled his eyes. "God you're such a spoilsport. At least give me a hint of what he likes." Draco's eyes widened. "Oh my god, have you two done the whole student/Professor detention thing?"

Snape stood abruptly, and stalked over to the sideboard to refill his glass. A wide smile spread across Draco's face. Oh this was delicious. "Sweet Merlin, you have. Tell me, who was the Professor?" Snape kept his back to Draco as he took a sip of his drink. "You were of course. Potter is obviously the sub in the relationship. Do you ever let him lead?"

There was a soft snort. "Potter is not as submissive as you think, Malfoy. Have you ever known him to let others ride roughshod over him?"

Draco blinked at the man's words, and his smile faltered. "You're right. Potter was never one to just bend over and take it."

Snape turned, and headed back to his chair, a smirk on his lips. "Oh, Potter has no qualms about bending over, and he takes it quite well. But, as usual, it's on his terms."

Draco blinked at the man owlishly. Well, who the fuck was in charge in that relationship? "And you just... let him?"

Snape sighed. "Draco, the one thing you never understood about Harry is; he is just as much Slytherin as he is Gryffindor. Don't try to understand him or our relationship. It's complicated, but it works for us."

Draco nodded and took a sip. "Well, he makes you happy, and that's all I care about."

Snape lifted his glass in a salute. "Thank you."

Draco let his mind wander before turning back to Snape. "Potter is basically retired, isn't he?" Severus nodded. "And yet he still has his robes?"

Snape took a sip. "The robes are special ordered for each Auror, and they keep them even after they leave the force. Longbottom still has his, he wore them for a fellow Auror's funeral several years back."

A smile played at Draco's lips. "Interesting." He was already getting hard at the fantasy that was currently forming in his mind.

Snape snorted.

 

Draco looked up as the letter was tossed to the table, and glanced over at Snape. The man grimaced.

"That bad?"

Potter pulled a chair out, and sat down at the small breakfast table. It was the Easter holidays, and the children were all at the Burrow for the week, so the three men had met at Potter's for a late brunch before heading over for Easter dinner. He sighed, "It's just cowardly. She sends me an owl instead of telling me to my face this evening. She probably won't even be there. Lily will be so disappointed. Damn her," Potter hissed angrily.

Draco ducked on impulse as a glass shattered behind him. Snape's hand reached out, and covered Potter's. "What did she do?"

Potter shook his head with a sigh. "She didn't really _do_ anything. Oliver's been made head coach for Puddlemere, and Gin wants to be able to accompany him during the recruitment and training this summer. To show her support," Potter rolled his eyes. "Anyway, she thinks all the traveling might be a little much for the kids, and thinks it's best for them to just stay with me this summer. At least until August."

"Then why don't you take them to the Continent?" Snape suggested. "You were talking about how you wanted to do something like that."

"It's a good experience," Draco agreed. "You know, James enjoyed the trip to Paris last year." He winced, "for the most part."

Snape laughed, and the two younger men turned to give him odd looks. "Maybe you two should go on vacation together. Might actually get those boys of yours to finally wake up, and realize how oblivious they are."

Potter glared at Snape. "Honestly, Severus, I am not taking my fifteen-year-old child on a joint vacation just so he can get laid."

Draco snorted. "I doubt Astoria would appreciate my encouraging her son in his pouf-ish ways."

Potter turned to him. "Is that even a word?"

Draco glared at the Gryffindor. "Oh, because _you've_ never turned a noun into an adjective."

Potter rolled his eyes and bit into the muffin Snape had placed on his plate. "All I'm saying," Snape continued, "is instead of switching out, just spend an entire month at some beach resort or something. You exchange kids anyways, and the two of you might even be able to avoid killing each other this year."

"Hey!" Potter protested. "It's been at least twenty years since I've tried to kill him."

Draco raised his tea cup in a salute "And I appreciate the sentiment, Potter."

"Eh, don't get cocky. I was just too busy chasing _real_ bad guys."

"Once again, the thought is commended," Draco said into his cup.

He watched as Potter reached under the table towards Snape's thigh, and leaned closer to the man. "Will you come with us?"

"I have no wish to be trapped with four of my current students for an entire month during what is typically my personal vacation time."

Draco saw Potter's hand move under the table. "I'll make it worth your while."

Draco snorted, and Snape shifted in his seat. "We will discuss it later."

Draco rolled his eyes, and pointed the butter knife at Potter. "Okay. But the first time I hear him scream 'Yes, Daddy. More' you're out." Draco smirked, and bit into his muffin as the two men blushed.

\---- Carpe Diem Ch. 8.---------

Draco was actually glad they had agreed to the whole joint vacation thing. He knew Scorpius would have gotten bored while James was off with his family, and the letter from Astoria that Scorpius had received shortly after their arrival here (Lots of traveling planned this summer, Darling. Not sure when we shall have you over. Enjoy your time with Jamie. Kisses.) could have gone over a lot worse if he hadn't had the other two boys to distract him. Draco still wasn't sure what had happened to the Potter girl, only Snape's off comment that one girl in a house of boys was too much for the poor child, and she'd gone off to join a muggle circus. Draco had rolled his eyes, and gone back to studying the chess board.

The last week and a half had been quite relaxing, and he'd yet to hear the word ‘Daddy’ from either man, unfortunately. Though he did enjoy teasing the two with the occasional jibe about detentions, but only when they were upstairs on the lovers' balcony and away from nosy ears. Draco stared out at the beautiful scenery, and let the morning conversation wash over him.

“When it happens, Severus, I promise it will be front page news,” Potter said as he dipped his spoon into the marmalade. Draco looked over to see the slight frown on Snape's face as he rustled the newspaper. Snape glanced over to where the boys were gathered around the bar, eating and talking.

"…man to rub sunscreen on your back,” James was saying to Scorpius. Snape shot a look at Draco who simply shrugged. It wasn't his fault if Potter junior the elder was too oblivious to realize his best friend was in love with his brother. He turned back to the view out the window, enjoying the calm blue of the sky. There was a tapping at the kitchen window.

“Get that will you, Scorp?” Potter said around the toast he was shoving in his mouth, and Draco rolled his eyes. He paid no attention to the small owl that fluttered around the kitchen until it landed in front of Potter, nearly knocking Draco's teacup from his hand. He pulled the cup back, and watched as Potter blinked in surprise at the owl.

“It’s Fizzle,” he said with a wide smile.

“What’s Uncle Ron’s owl doing here?” James said, and Draco felt his stomach jump. Potter tossed the bird a piece of bacon, and took the parchment. Draco watched the man intently, wondering if he would share what was in the missive. His heart leapt as his eye caught the slanted writing on the parchment.

“Harry?” Snape's soft tone pulled Draco's eyes from the parchment up to see the white pallor of Potter's face.

“Dad?” The concern in the younger Potter's voice clutched at Draco's insides. What could have happened? _He_ wasn't an Auror anymore so he shouldn't be in any danger. Except he worked for his brother, and wasn't that idiot just as dangerous as Longbottom in a room full of bubbling cauldrons? Except, maybe he was okay, and it was a family member. Draco should be there for him. He shouldn't have to go through a family crisis alone. Draco pushed the little voice away that reminded him of the man's wife and children.

“Everyone’s fine,” Potter said in a tone that clearly stated that this assessment was only in the physical sense, but something else was definitely not "fine". Potter stood, and strode from the room, and Draco looked at Snape. Draco knew his ex-Head of House needed to go after Potter, find out what was wrong, and the look in his eyes promised to let him know something as soon as he could. Draco nodded in understanding; someone needed to keep an eye on the boys, anyway. Snape stood,nd followed Potter from the room. Draco saw the two Potter boys stand to follow their father. “Sit. Down,” Draco said firmly, and both boys turned to gape at him. “You will be told if and when your father deems it necessary. He is clearly upset, and does not need a pair of nosy teenagers pestering him. Besides,” Draco winced, remembering the few times he had been exposed to Potter's literal glass shattering emotional outbursts, “if his magic becomes uncontrollable who will protect you? Severus can handle Harry.” He hoped. He went back to his tea, and stared into the near empty cup wondering what the hell was going on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to update... again! Someone send me a reminder next Monday.

They sat in near silence, waiting on tenterhooks for either of the lovers to return with news. Every scenario Draco could think up entered his head. He hadn't recognized the writing on the parchment but that was nothing. It had been over twenty years since he'd seen anything Ronald had written, and people's writing could change over time. His own letter writing was sloppier, more rushed than when he'd been a teen. His head popped up when Snape stepped into the kitchen, an odd look on his face as he addressed the boys

“There will need to be a bit of maneuvering,” he said flatly. “Your cousins are coming for a visit. Albus Severus, your room will need to be made available to Miss Granger-Weasley as the other two share a bathroom. For some reason, your father deems it best the two of you _not_ share a room. Mr. Po- James, you will move in with Mr. Malfoy, the younger; and Mr. Weasley, the younger, will room with Albus Severus.” Draco noted the hesitations over the various names, and smirked when Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath before mumbling, “Too many fucking Weasleys and Potters and Malfoys. I must have completely lost my mind to take Potter on.”

“I tried to warn you,” Draco teased.

Snape glared at him. “Sod off, Malfoy. Or I’ll make _you_ share a room with Mr. Weasley.” He turned to go but paused and looked over his shoulder, “That would be Ronald Weasley.”

Draco felt the blood drain from his face at Snape's words. Oh god. Did that meant he was going to be here? With his wife? Draco didn't think he'd be able to handle seeing the man so happily in love with the mud- muggleborn for the next two weeks. He might just have to cut his vacation short. To be so close to his Weasel, to see how he looked in the mornings when he first woke up, eyes still dreary with sleep, hair mussed. Draco set his cup down. He needed something stronger.

Draco barely remembered the rest of the morning as the boys scurried around getting their things moved, and Snape and Potter were holed up in their room. Snape appeared long enough to grab some lunch and shake his head in warning to Draco. Damn. It must be something serious. But if someone were hurt wouldn't they want the Potters to go there instead of sending the Weasleys _here_? For the life of him, Draco just couldn't think of what could have happened.

A few hours after lunch there was a knock on the door, and Draco tensed as he waited for the Potter elf to open the door. His heart nearly broke at the look on Ronald's face. God he wanted to kiss the hurt away. Whatever was going on must be pure torture. He stepped forward, and pressed his newly refilled tumbler into the redhead's hands. The man drank it down quickly before handing it back to him with shaking hands. His soft "thanks" echoed in Draco's ears. A second later he had a quick flash of hatred for Potter as the Gryffindor rushed forward and took Ronald in his arms. The redhead grabbed onto his friend like a lifeline, and Draco was glad Ronald had someone he could cling to, even if it wasn't him. He watched the other Potters embrace Weasleys, and glanced over at his son to see his reaction to the younger Potter hugging the younger Weasley boy. A true Malfoy, Scorpius showed no emotion. Draco glanced over at Snape, and immediately went and poured the man a drink. Draco handed the other Slytherin the drink as the Potter-Weasley clan dispersed. Snape drank it down, and went to refill his glass while Draco moved to sit in one of the leather chairs. He paused when Snape turned around, a look in his eyes he hadn't seen in a long time. Snape took a sip of his drink, and Draco's carefully constructed world crashed around him.

“She’s left Ronald." Draco's hold on the glass tightened, and he suddenly understood why glass had a tendency to break when Potter became overly emotional. _No_. "Told him last night she’s fallen in love with someone else.” He felt his blood pound in his head at Snape's words. _No_. “She’s already started divorce proceedings." _No_. "The children just found out about an hour ago.” _No. No. NO!_

“That. _Bitch_ .” Draco growled as the glass flew from his hand and crashed against the fireplace. How dare she? What gives her the right to treat him like this? “How dare she do that to him? He was _always_ too good for her; I don’t know how he couldn’t see it.” Draco was pacing back and forth now, words spilling from his lips. “How could she? She was supposed to love and cherish him for all eternity. She was supposed to worship the ground he walked on. She was supposed to give him everything _I_ couldn’t. She wasn’t supposed to hurt him, toss him aside like last week’s Prophet. He’s a _fucking_ hero, for Merlin’s sake. He deserves to be treated like one.” Sweet Merlin, poor Ronald. He must be devastated. God, no wonder he'd looked like shite.

“Draco, there’s more,” Draco froze at Snape's soft words, and looked at him. "She left him for Blaise.” Draco saw red. _No. No. No_. Not a bloody Slytherin. Not that conceited, arrogant prat. He looked up when Snape grabbed his shoulders. “Get a grip, Malfoy,” he hissed. “Weasley needs the Ferret right now. Not some love-sick snake that’s been pining for him for years.”

Draco took a deep breath, and nodded. “Right.” Snape released him, watching him carefully. Draco pushed past him and went to pour himself another drink, his mind whirling with thoughts. He needed to get a grip. Needed to pull his armor around him to protect himself. A thought flashed in his mind, and he snorted to himself. He turned to the other man in the room. “Hey, Severus? What are the odds he’ll turn as easily as Potter did?”

Snape snorted and rolled his eyes.

 

The next week was hard on Draco, on many levels. He hated seeing Ronald like this, eyes red and miserable-looking as he moped around the house. A few times Potter had gotten the man to join them upstairs, and had even gotten a small smile once or twice. Draco had been careful with his barbs, just enough to let the man know he was still around but not enough to really hurt. He stayed away from anything related to Granger, marriages, and ex-wives. He was able to coerce the man into an hour long game of chess one afternoon which Snape and Potter took advantage of and disappeared for a good portion of the time. Draco had no idea where they went and didn't care, as long as they stayed off his bed. One morning, he stepped from his room to find Ronald once again sitting on the couch hunched over, a glass of whiskey in his hands. He rolled his eyes.

“Merlin, you’re pathetic, Weasley,” he told the man. The redhead didn't even lookup.

“Fuck off, ferret face.”

Draco smirked at the nickname. “Still going on about _that_ , are you?”

Ronald took a sip of the whiskey. “One of the happiest days of my life.”

Draco rolled his eyes as he took in the hunched figure. “And here I thought it was the day you saved me.”

Ronald snorted. “That was Harry. I was ready to let the flaming Chimaera eat you.”

“Ah, yes. Potter and his saving people thing." He actually wished Potter would get off his arse and do something about Weasley. The man needed to get out and realize life moved on. He didn't need to wallow around here. "Dammit,” he sighed. He was going to regret this. He just knew he was going to really, _really_ regret this. “I suppose it’s catching. Go take a shower, Weasley. And put on some decent muggle clothes.”

Ronald finally turned to look at him. “What are you going on about, Malfoy?”

“I’m taking you out drinking," he clarified. "You are going to get thoroughly pissed tonight." He crossed over and took the drink from Ronald's hands and downed it. The man gaped at him. "I won’t offer again. Now go.”

Draco took his time getting ready. Even if it wasn't a real date, he was going out with Ronald, and he wanted the man impressed. Even if they ended up in some dingy pub, he was going to look hella good for the redhead. He added a little more gel to his hair and smirked to himself.

"Do I need to take your wand too?"

Draco looked over at Potter standing in the doorway. "What are you on about, Potter?"

The man held up a wand and twitched it in his fingers. Draco narrowed his eyes at the brunette. "Ron told me you were taking him out to get pissed. I did you a favor and took his wand." Draco turned to face Potter. "Don't look at me like that, Malfoy. Ron gets fairly hot-headed when he's drunk."

Draco snorted. "You mean more so than usual?"

Potter tipped his head in a touché. "Quite a bit more than usual. There is usually a designated wand carrier when we take him out. I'll keep his with me for the night," he narrowed his eyes. "Don't make me regret it."

Draco held his hands up. "Neutral territory tonight, Potter. Just trying to do a friend a favor." He wrinkled his nose. "Well, the friend of a friend."

Potter sighed and chewed at his bottom lip. "Thanks, Draco. This is hard on him for a lot of reasons. Partly guilt, even if he won't say so."

Draco wondered what the hell Ronald had to feel guilty about. Draco tugged on the sleeves of his shirt. "Well, I needed an excuse to get away for a bit. Vacation's almost over and not once have you two let the silencing charms down. Quite disappointing when I know you're up their screaming for your daddy and I don't even get to wank to the sounds."

Potter's face flushed a deep red, and he turned and left. Draco smirked after him.

His breath caught when he saw Ronald come down the stairs from whichever room he'd used to change in. He wore faded jeans that clung to his solid hips and stretched over his full arse. Draco's hands itched to cup the orbs, and he clenched his fists. The tee Ronald wore stretched across his chest, and his hair hung scraggily around his face. Merlin, he looked sexy.

"What?" the man glared.

Draco shook his head. "Nothing. Just didn’t realize you knew how to clean up."

"Fuck off. I thought we were going to get drunk?"

"Taxi's outside."

The small white car that was waiting for them in the driveway ended up dropping them off at a small club with flashing lights and loud music. They found a small booth in the back, away from the worst of the music, and tucked in.

"Two vodkas," Draco told the girl that approached their table, "and keep 'em coming."

After his third glass, Draco got Ronald to start talking, hoping to slow his alcohol consumption and learn a few things about the man as well.

"I wonder why Snape and Potter didn't join us," he said casually.

Ronald snorted. "Please. Get those two out of the bedroom? Good luck with that."

Draco smirked. "Noticed that did you?"

"How could you not? Honestly, some of the things Harry hints at," he shuddered.

Draco laughed. "I hear Potter's into role-playing."

Ronald shook his head and tossed back his drink. "The things you learn, even when you think you know it all."

Draco took a sip. "You mean about him being gay?"

Ronald shook his head. "Nah. I think we all kinda suspected he was a bit bi." He seemed to get lost in a memory for a minute before shaking it off. "There were signs."

"About Snape?"

Ronald scoffed, "There were signs."

Draco thought he might like to hear _that_ story. "So am I to assume that Potter's insatiable appetite is a recent occurrence?"

Ronald shrugged, and took a sip from his newest glass. "From what Gin hinted at, the two of them barely did anything the last few years of their marriage." He stared down into the clear liquid. "Guess it's a pattern." He tossed the drink back, and slammed the glass on the table. "Is that how it was for you?"

Draco glanced over at the man staring at the now empty glass. "No." Blue eyes rose to meet him. "Astoria and I hadn't had sex since before Scorpius."

Ronald grimaced. "Damn. How did you last?"

Draco laughed, "I didn't say _I_ hadn't had sex." Ronald's eyes widened in shock. "Oh don't give me that look, Weasley. My marriage was a business contract. I won't even go into how hard it was to get it up just to get her pregnant."

"You're a pouf?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Weasel."

He watched the redhead swallow. "Did you- I mean, were you ever… with Snape?"

Draco recoiled. "God no. Unlike Potter, I like to stick with men close to my own age." He took a sip of his vodka. "Besides, I know what it's like to have to close your eyes and imagine you're fucking someone else, and I couldn't take that from Snape."

Ronald furrowed his brows. "Harry?"

Draco nodded. "Snape's been half in love with Potter for years."

"Damn. I thought they hated each other."

Draco snorted. "Sexual tension, my dear Weasel, can make itself known in many forms."

"And who do you imagine when you close your eyes?"

Draco turned away from those bright blue eyes. "No one appropriate."

They were silent for several more drinks. "Do you think she imagined _him_ when she was with me?"

Draco winced at the words, and turned to see Ronald glaring down into his glass. "If she did, she was an idiot."

Ronald looked up at him and studied him for several seconds before tossing back the latest drink. "I did."

Draco choked on his drink, and thumped his chest. "You? Who?"

He shook his head. "No one specific. It was just- I don't know. Harry and I went out drinking one night, and he started talking about being with Snape. How he didn't have to worry about being gentle or if he was pleasing him. I mean, it's kinda obvious if you're doing it right with a guy, right?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah. If he's hard it's a pretty good guess he likes what you're doing. If he loses it, you've done something wrong."

Ronald snorted and tossed back his glass, and Draco vaguely wondered what number he was up to. "Anyway, it made me think, wonder, you know? What it would be like. 'Mione and I had sex a few nights later and-" he cut himself off, and Draco almost moaned in disappointment when he shook his head. "It was nothing. Just a thought. I'm not even gay."

He grabbed the full glass from in front of Draco and downed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ducks/hides under my desk* Totally forgot I ended the chapter there. Guess you'll have to wait til next week to find out what happens back at the Villa.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally time to find out about *that* night at the villa.

The Taxi dropped them off near one o'clock, and the two men held each other up as they stumbled into the villa. "Lock the fucking door," Draco told the redhead.

"Shh. People are sleeping," Ronald yelled quietly back as he attempted to turn the bolt. He finally managed on his third try.

"Eh, Sev and Potter are prob'ly passed out from fucking, and nothing can wake a teenager." He grabbed Ronald's arm, and pulled him to the back of the house and into his room.

Ronald jerked his arm out of Draco's grasp. "Why'd you bring me in here?"

Draco leaned towards the delectable redhead. "I'm going to ravish you, Weasley." He laughed at the look of horror on the man's face. "Oh, relax. I have Sober-Up in my drawer. You want it now or in the morning?"

Draco stumbled over to his bedside table, and pulled the drawer open. He pulled out two green vials, and turned to see Ronald standing near the door that led outside. He smiled, and went over and grabbed the man around the waist. "Want to go skinny dipping?"

The redhead twirled around, "What the fu-" But he was too drunk to move that fast and lost his balance, sending the two men sprawling to the floor; the vials rolled under the bed, forgotten. Draco's breath caught at the feel of the man on top of him, hot breath sending tingles down his spine. Hazy blue eyes darkened, and Draco felt himself getting hard. He pressed his hips up against the other man, and let out a gasp of air. Blue eyes widened in shock, and Ronald scrambled backwards off Draco. Draco sighed in disappointment. "Stay the fuck away from me, Malfoy."

Draco stood up, and grabbed at Ronald's shoulder. "I'm a fucking pouf, Weasley. Sorry, it's been a while, and I'm drunk. Some things are beyond my control."

"I'm not gay," he growled.

"Okay. I get it. You're not gay. You don't want to shove your cock up my arse or your tongue down my throat."

Ronald grabbed Draco’s arm from off his shoulder, and turned around to face him, dragging Draco close. "That's right. I don't want a damn thing from you, Malfoy." And he tossed the blonde up against the wall. Draco moaned as hot lips descended on him, hard tongue pushing his lips open to plunge into his mouth. Draco pressed his hips up against the hard thigh, and moaned his approval as Ronald’s tongue plundered his mouth over and over. He could still taste the burger they’d eventually ordered at the club, too late to delay the effects of the alcohol they’d consumed. Strong hands slid through Draco’s hair, and yanked his head to the side as hot lips worked their way down his jaw to suck at the smooth skin. Draco bucked against him, and felt Ronald press his hardening cock against Draco’s belly.

“Oh, Ronald,” he moaned, and clutched at- Nothing.

“Oh, fuck.” Draco’s eyes snapped open to see a horrified Ronald Weasley, his eyes darting around before he grabbed at the door handle beside them and yanked it open.

"Fucking hell. Bloody fucking hell," Ronald mumbled as he stumbled out into the darkness.

Draco sighed, and ran a hand down his face. He followed the man outside, grateful for the cool air that calmed his raging blood. "Dammit, Weasley. I'm too fucking drunk for this shite.”

Ronald ran a hand through his already mussed hair, and turned to him, "Sod off, Malfoy. Just fucking sod off."

"Don't be a fucking pussy, Ronald,” he growled at the man. Damn. “It was-"

"Pussy? I'll show you who's a fucking pussy, Draco sodding Malfoy," Ron snarled as he descended on Draco and shoved him back inside. The door banged against the opposite wall hard enough to bounce back and slam closed.

Draco stumbled back until he was falling against the bed, Ronald landing on top of him to grind their hips together. Draco reached up and pulled the tee over Ronald’s head, and grabbed at the hard biceps. Callused fingers slid under Draco’s shirt, and pulled it over his head, he groaned at the feel of those fingers sliding over his skin. He arched up as Ronald reached down and pulled at the button of his slacks. Soon the cool air in the room was sliding over his heated skin, and he was reaching for Ronald’s jeans. The redhead moaned as Draco pushed the jeans down to expose the red y-fronts. His hands skimmed up the taut thighs to caress the hard member beneath the cotton. Ronald moaned, and pressed against his touch.

“Fuck me, Ronald,” Draco whispered. “Please.”

Hot lips mouthed down his neck to suck on his taut nipple, and Draco gasped. He pushed the cotton pants down and shed his own.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as his hard cock slid against the answering member. “Oh god, Ronald. So long… so good. Take me.”

Ronald moved over him, and latched his lips back onto Draco’s. They kissed hard for several minutes before Ronald pulled back. He nuzzled against Draco’s ear. “What do I do?”

Draco held his hand out to catch the vial of lube he kept in the bedside drawer, and pressed it to Ronald’s hand. “Stretch me. One finger at a time until I can take that delicious cock of yours.”

Ronald nodded, and poured the oil over his fingers before reaching between Draco’s legs. Draco spread himself and bent his knees. There was a sharp pain as Ronald shoved his finger in. “Fuck, Weasley. Be gentle. It’s been a while.”

“Sorry,” the man said contritely.

Draco ran his hands down the freckled arm. “It’s okay. Just go a little slower.”

Ron nodded, and began to move his finger slowly until Draco was moaning and begging for another and another and  _ fuck  _ he needed more. “Pour it on your thick cock, and shove it in me, Ronald.”

Draco gasped as Ronald’s fingers slid from him, and the red head once again moved over him to cover his mouth. He couldn’t believe all his dreams were about to come true, too bad it was all alcohol induced. Later, Draco would remember the press of Ronald entering him, hot breath on his skin, strong hands gently cradling his hips, the catch of his breath at being filled like never before. Ron would eventually recall soft lips pressed against his burning skin, delicate fingers clutching at his back, and soft moans of pleasure and whispered words of praise. A delicious tightness around his cock bringing him to the ultimate climax before slipping from the lithe body and curling against the pale blonde.

 

“Shite. Fuck.” Draco didn’t dare move as the whispered words reached his ears. The blanket was lifted from his body, and then quickly brought back down. “Fuck. Fucking hell. Bloody fucking hell.” The bed moved, and the warm weight was torn from his body. He listened to the man’s continued cursing as he gathered his clothes and most likely pulled them on. A minute later the door closed softly, and Draco rolled over. He sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. He felt the smile tug at his lips, and grabbed the pillow beside him. He covered his face and inhaled the precious scent before squealing like a Hufflepuff. Ronald fucking Weasley had fucked him! Bloody fucking hell.

Bloody fucking hell! Weasley was pissed. Draco would probably never get a repeat, and any hope of even a friendship with the man was most likely gone. Bloody hell. And Draco could barely remember it. Damn all that vodka. He sat up, and pushed the pillow aside, wondering where Ronald had gone. Probably to Potter. As if to answer his question there was a knock on the door, and it swung open. Draco looked up as Snape appeared in the doorway. “Where is he?”

“Upstairs with Harry.” Snape moved into the room, and sat on the edge of the bed. Draco knew he was still naked under the covers but frankly couldn’t bring himself to care. “Draco, what happened? He looked- hell, he looked like he’d seen his entire family under a  _ crucio _ .”

Draco turned to look at the door leading outside. He had a vague memory of being pressed up against the wall beside it, hot lips on his neck. He reached up to touch where the memory still burned. “I’m fairly certain...“ he sighed. “We had sex.”

There was silence and he finally turned to see Snape blink owlishly at him. “When you say we…”

“Ronald and I. Last night. We got pretty drunk. I don’t even know how it happened.” He ran a hand down his face. “Fuck. He’s going to hate me even more now.”

“Draco-“

“No,” he cut the man off. He didn’t want pity or platitudes or whatever the man was ready to offer. “I just- I need to think. I need to be alone right now.”

The dark head bobbed. “Alright, Draco. Just know I’m here for you if you need me.”

The man stood and headed towards the door. “Severus.” He paused and looked back at Draco. “Tell Harry I’m sorry.”

Snape shook his head. “I won’t start lying for you now, Draco.” He turned, and shut the door behind him. Draco sighed, and fell back on the bed; his lower back twinged at the sudden movement. He lips curled in a secret smile as he pulled the blankets around him. Eventually the memories would return and he’d have that. It wasn’t like things were any different than they had been before this vacation. Weasley still disliked him, he was still unavailable, and Draco was still in love. Only now, he had memories.

It didn’t take long for Draco to realize Ronald was not about to risk being alone with him again. The man was like a brand new snitch just let out of its box. Draco silently lamented that he’d never been a very good Seeker. He did notice that James finally seemed to have caught on to Scorpius’s own attraction, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Snape had finally let Potter top; the man seemed much more attentive to Snape since that night. Draco and Scorpius returned home, and he sent an owl to Ronald, which was returned, unopened. Damn the stubborn red head.

 

Damn the stubborn blonde. Didn’t he get it? Didn’t he realize it had been a mistake? A stupid, drunken, idiotic mistake. One he did  _ not _ intend to repeat. Ron fed the damn owl a piece of bacon, and stroked the missive attached to its leg. He jerked his hand away.

“Take it back to your master. I don’t want it.” The bird hooted at him, and flew off. Ron sighed, and pressed his palms to his eyes.

“Ronnie?”

He looked up at the soft voice, and smiled at his brother. “Hey, George. Did you need something?”

The man moved forward, and placed a hand on Ron’s shoulder. “You want to talk about it?” He pulled a stool forward, and sat down at the workbench Ron had been eating his breakfast over.

Ron grabbed a potion vial, and began to fiddle with it. “I told you, it’s been over for a while, I just didn’t-“

“I’m not talking about Hermione, Ronald.” He shivered at the memory of that name on Dra- Malfoy’s lips. “I’m talking about whatever happened that you  _ aren’t _ talking about.”

Ron looked away from his brother’s intense gaze. “I-“ He snapped his mouth closed, and shook his head. How did he tell the one person he was closer to than Harry that he had slept with a man? And not just any man, Malfoy. He knew they wouldn’t have a problem with him being gay, if he  _ were _ gay; they had accepted Harry after all. But it was  _ Malfoy _ . And how did you tell your family that you were attracted to the man that had tormented your childhood? He snorted mentally. Well, Harry had done it, hadn’t he? He dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

And where did he begin? Did he start when he woke up next to the warm, lithe, pale figure curled so trustingly against him? Something he hadn’t done in years. Hermione hadn’t needed his warmth and protection in years, if ever. Did he start with showing up at that Villa, and taking the warm glass of liquid from the last person he’d expected to see understanding in those grey eyes? Hermione hadn’t tried to understand him since he’d tried to explain why he needed out of the Auror force. The night he and Hermione had sat up talking about all the things that had gone wrong over the last few years, how they’d barely touched each other, had relied too long on their friendship to hold their loveless marriage together before finally realizing they needed to let it go? Could he admit those truths to his brother? He could barely admit them to himself. Or maybe he’d start with the night he’d looked over at his wife and wondered what he was missing, and how those thoughts had plagued him several times over the years. He dragged his hands down his face, and met George’s worried gaze.

“I can’t even blame her for the divorce, George.” His eyes dropped to the table. “I think it was over for both of us a long time ago. ‘Mione was just the first to figure it out.”

The strong hand stroked down his back. “You know, Ronnie, it’s okay to be upset and hurt.”

He shook his head. “But that’s just it, George. I should be  _ more _ upset. I should be angrier at her for finding someone who loves her. I should hate walking through the house and seeing the places we’ve made love. I shouldn’t be falling into bed with-“ He cut himself off when he realized he’d said too much.

George gaped at him, then his lips slowly rose in a wide grin. “Ronnie, you sly dog. You met someone at the beach?”

Ron felt his face fill with blood, and he jumped up from the stool and headed to the front of the store. “No. It wasn’t like that.”

He heard George’s stool scrape on the floor and the man follow him to the store front. “Did you at least get her number? Name?”

Ron shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. Just forget I said anything.”

Ron moved behind the counter grabbing a box, and started unloading the contents. George leaned against the counter, and smirked knowingly. “You know it’s okay to have a rebound.”

“It wasn’t a rebound,” Ron gritted out. “It was a mistake. I was drunk. It didn’t mean anything.”

George shrugged. “Same difference. Release is release. As long as you didn’t promise to call her the next day.” He smirked. “Or is that what all the owls were about?”

“Just drop it, George,” Ron growled.

“Oh come on,” his brother pleaded. “I bet Harry knows all about her.” Ron couldn’t stop the blush from burning his cheeks. “Oh ho. So he does.” George crossed his arms over his chest. “And why does Harry get to know all about this wonderful girl, and I don’t?”

Ron slammed the box down on the counter. “Dammit, George. There was no girl. Can you just drop it?”

He pushed past his brother, and went to turn the sign on the door. It was still ten minutes ‘til opening, but he needed something to do. He twisted the lock, and made to open the door but it was slammed by a firm hand, and he jumped back to see blazing brown eyes. “Ronald Bilius Weasley, are you telling me you had rebound sex with a man?”

Ron’s eyes widened. “What? No. I didn’t-“

“You said it wasn’t a woman. You said you jumped into bed with someone. Ergo, that leaves a man.”

Ron swallowed. Damn his brother for getting him flustered. His mouth gaped like a fish. He wanted to break the eye contact but was too scared to look away. God, what if George could  _ tell? _ What if he could  _ see _ Malfoy on him somehow?”

George’s look of curiosity slowly turned to one of comfort. “Hey. You know it’s okay, right? I mean, we aren’t going to love you any less.” Ron nodded, and finally dropped his eyes. They walked away from the door, and went to settle behind the counter. “So,” George said, and Ron looked up to see a familiar twinkle in the brown eyes, “is it as good as Harry claims?”

Ron felt his cheeks flush. “I don’t really remember a lot, George. I told you, I was drunk.” Except he remembered the tight heat contracting around him, the smooth hands that worshiped his body, and a soft voice saying things he’d never heard before.

“Did you at least get his name?”

Ron scoffed. “Oh yeah. I got his name alright.”


	5. Chapter 5

Several weeks later, Ron closed up the shop and locked the door. He’d sent George home hours ago as it was the man’s anniversary. He set the charms on the doors and windows before turning to head down Diagon Alley. He pulled his jacket collar up to block out the wind; it was only October but the weather was already starting to cool. The thought of a nice warm roast had him heading to the small café up the street. It wasn’t the first time he’d dined there after a long day at the store, and Madam Coffrey definitely made a mouth watering roast on Wednesday nights. He settled into a small table in the back, and the waitress brought him a steaming plate of roast and a warm mug of butterbeer. He was startled from his food when the chair across from him was pulled out and someone plopped down. His eyes rose, not all that surprised to see grey eyes blazing at him.

“Go away, Malfoy. I’m eating.”

“I’ve been trying to owl you.”

Ron took a bite of the roll. “And I’ve been trying to tell you delicately to leave me the fuck alone,” he hissed.

“So you’re just going to act like nothing happened?”

He dipped the roll into the gravy, “That’s the general idea, yeah.”

“So I’m just supposed to spend the rest of my life pretending the most amazing sex of my life never happened?”

Ron blinked down at his plate. _The most amazing_ … Not even Hermione had ever described their sex life as amazing. “How would you know, Malfoy? We were drunk.” He glared up at the man.

The blonde smirked. “Well, my memories have definitely been returning, but if  _ you _ need a reminder, I’m-“

“I don’t need reminding, Malfoy,” Ron growled.

Malfoy leaned over and lowered his voice. “You called me Draco when you came.”

Ron’s breath caught in his chest at the soft tone in the man’s voice, and felt his jeans under his robes begin to tighten. He closed his eyes to concentrate and slow his blood. “Why are you here?”

“I told you. I’ve been trying to owl you.”

Ron glared up at him. “You just don’t take no for an answer do you?”

The man smile ruefully. “No. It’s my one downfall.”

Ron snorted. “Just one?”

“Why don’t you find out? Come out with me. The kids are at school, and you’re off work, obviously.”

Ron sat back, “Absolutely not. I know what happens when we go out together. It won’t happen again.”

Malfoy shrugged. “I’m willing to take that chance.”

Ron eyed him as he picked his fork back up. “I’m eating.”

Malfoy eyed the food on Ron's plate and furrowed his brows. “ _ What  _ are you eating?”

“It’s called roast, Malfoy. Sorry if my tastes are too plebeian for you. I’m a simple man.”

Malfoy eyed him. “There is nothing simple about you, Ronald Weasley.”

Ron felt the shiver race down his spine at the man’s use of his full name. He grunted, and shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.

“Do you eat out often?”

Ron eyed the man, wondering what the hell he was getting at. “Depends. I don’t have a house elf waiting for me at home to cater to my every need, so when I work late, yeah. I eat out.”

Malfoy nodded. “No one at home to have a hot meal waiting anymore.”

Ron snorted. “Not since I was seventeen.”

Malfoy blinked at him. “She didn’t cook?”

Ron shook his head. “ ‘Mione was pants at cooking.”

Malfoy leaned forward and smiled coyly. “So you did all the cooking? How domestic.”

“Shove off, Malfoy.”

The smile melted a fraction. “I’m serious, Ronald. I think it’s cute." Ron watched as Malfoy's slender fingers slowly danced across the table towards where Ron held his fork. "Did you have a little apron too? One of those Kiss the Cook things?”

Ron growled at the man, but Malfoy only smiled.

“I’d love to see you in one. Maybe red to match your sexy little pants.” Ron felt his face burning, and Malfoy chuckled. “You’re damn cute when you blush too, Ronald.” One finger reached out to stroke his freckled hand.  


Ron jerked his hand back and reached for his butterbeer to cover the sudden movement. He drank it down. Hermione had never teased him about his blushes; she’d only rolled her eyes. In fact, she’d rarely teased him about anything. He felt his stomach tighten at the twinkle in those grey eyes. He looked away.

“I’d do it too.” Ron made the mistake of looking up into the blazing eyes. “Kiss the cook.  _ Wherever _ he wanted.” Ron’s jeans tightened once more as Malfoy’s eyes raked over him. Hermione had never- Argh! Why was Malfoy doing this to him? Why couldn’t the bastard just let him be? He wasn’t even legally divorced. He did not need this. He should be grieving the loss of his marriage. Not remembering a one off or thinking of this man down on his knees, mouth wrapped around his- Ron stood and tossed his napkin on the table.

“Since you are so adamant about interrupting my dinner, Malfoy. You can pay for it. I’m going home.” He turned, and stalked out of the restaurant, not doubting for an instant the blonde would settle the tab.

He made his way to the Leaky and Flooed home. He yanked his robe off, and tossed it onto the couch. He pulled his shirt off once he reached his bedroom, and pulled off his jeans. He needed a shower. He stepped under the warm spray and let the water flow over him. Why the hell did the man get to him so much? They weren’t children anymore; he should be able to brush the infuriating ferret off. Ignore him. But, no. Malfoy had a way of getting under his skin. _There’s always been-_ something _between you and Malfoy._ Harry’s words from the morning after that night rang in his mind. _You called me Draco when you came._ And he had, hadn’t he? He hadn’t been completely honest with the man: bits and pieces of that night came to him at the most inopportune times, sometimes in his dreams, and he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or a memory. Surely Hermione had never moaned about his _big, gorgeous cock_ or begged him for _more_ and _harder_ and _oh, god right there_. In fact, ‘Mione had barely made any noise in bed or arched against him and demanded him to fill her with his _sweet come_. But Malfoy had. He’d said all that and more. Even remembering the soft praises the man had lavished on him as Ron had emptied himself inside the blonde still made him blush.

And seeing the man tonight had brought back those hazy memories. The kisses, the hot skin, long fingers digging into his arms, sliding over his back. The taste of Malfoy in his mouth as his tongue laved over the pale skin, the feel of that hard cock in his hand, sliding along his own hard prick, slipping into the tight cavern of Malfoy’s arse, those slender legs wrapping around him, pulling him deeper. Oh fuck. Ron grabbed his aching cock and began to jerk hard and fast, just like he liked it. He knew instinctively he could fuck Malfoy like this, plunge into him and fuck him raw in under five minutes and the man would welcome the hard intrusion, beg him for more. And he’d give it to him. Over and over, all night, fuck him with each new erection that sprang forth, and Draco would take it, welcome it, as Ron thrust into his arse. “Fuck, Draco.” Ron gasped as his seed shot against the wall, and he leaned back against the side wall to catch his breath. He moaned. Damn. He needed to get Malfoy out of his system.

"I just need to find some way to get him out of my system." Ron took the glass from Harry and stared into the brown liquid. "George says he's just a rebound."

"You told George?"

Ron looked up into Harry's wide eyes. "No. I mean, I slipped and he found out there was a guy. But he doesn't know it was Malfoy."

"Oh," Harry said and settled into the overstuffed chair in front of Ron's fireplace.

Ron took a sip of the whiskey and looked up. "So, how do you get someone out of your system?"

Harry shrugged. "Time. Try to move on."

Ron sighed. That wasn't much help. An idea occurred to him then, and he looked hopefully up at Harry. "Maybe I'm just so obsessed with him because he was my first. Maybe I just need to get out there and get some experience. Try other blokes. Is that what you did? Is that how you knew Snape was the one?"

He watched a slightly dreamy expression cross Harry's face. "Actually, Sev was my first. I was a complete gay virgin before I got with him." He blinked and focused on Ron. "Do you think you need to... try it out with other guys?"

Ron sighed, and stared into the empty fireplace. "I don't know. I mean, when I think about it and  _ try _ to look at other guys like that..." he shuddered. "It just feels wrong. And no matter what I do, I feel as if I'm betraying my marriage. Or at least the memory of it. Like I should at least have some sort of mourning period.

He heard Harry sigh. "Look, Ron. I can't tell you what to do. I fell in love with Sev before the whole sex part even crossed my mind. You know as well as I do that I was a little obsessed with Severus even back in sixth year. Our relationship was a natural progression. I don't know why you and Malfoy fell into bed together. I don't know what is up with you two. He won't talk to me about you, and Severus won't tell me what the prat says when they talk about you."

Ron's stomach clenched, and his head shot up to meet Harry's green eyes. "He- he talks about me? To Snape?"

Harry nodded. "Quite a bit, I believe."

Ron looked down into his glass and watched it swirl around. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He felt his cheeks heat as he worked to form the question in his mind. "Look. I know we're guys and all, and men don't usually talk about certain things but- Well, I can't really go to Hermione can I?"

"I can't promise not to be uncomfortable, but I'll do my best to answer your questions," Harry said softly. Understandingly.  


Ron poured the whiskey down his throat. "Does Snape say things to you that Ginny never did? Like, about-" he stood and crossed over to the table and refilled his drink. "When I was with... _him_ , he made me feel more a man than Hermione ever did. God, is that horrible?" The room was silent for a long time, and Ron finally turned around to see Harry slumped forward in the chair, elbows on his knees as he stared fascinated down at his hands. "Harry?"

Green eyes looked up sympathetically, and Harry chewed on his bottom lip. He spoke slowly, "You know I love Hermione." Ron nodded. "That fact is, Ron, she spent eight years taking care of us. She will never see us as the protectors. Yes, I know, she has that thing about my saving people thing, but she was the one that followed us around to keep us out of trouble. It's like, well, I would lead us into trouble, and you would follow me out of loyalty, and she followed to keep us safe. It shouldn't be a surprise that she always felt herself a little above us. It never really bothered me, but I wasn't having sex with her."

Ron nodded, understanding what his friend was trying to say. "Do you feel that way now? With Snape?"

Harry furrowed his brows. "More of a man?" Ron nodded. "Well, that wasn't really an issue with Gin. I mean, I was her childhood _hero_." Harry pulled a face. "But I can still understand what you mean. I can be more myself with Severus. If I need a fight, he'll give it to me, and I don't have to worry about him withholding sex. If I need to just be held, I'm allowed to curl up to him and not have to explain myself. If I-" He watched Harry's cheeks turn pink and green eyes flicked away. "If I need to be fucked hard and hurt, I can tell him and still be allowed to expect slow and easy the following night. I'm allowed to have what I want."

Ron studied his friend. "What's it like?" Harry looked up at him, questions in his eyes. "Hard and fast? I always had to be so gentle with 'Mione."

"It's like-" Harry paused and chewed on his lip. "Like you've just won the most intense duel. Hot, sweaty, exhilarating, a complete rush. And when he cries your name and you can feel his cock pulsing inside you filling you with his come, you just want to explode all over again." Harry's face was red once more, but Ron didn't think it had anything to do with embarrassment this time. "I need a drink now." He watched as Harry stood and strode across the room, the bulge in his pants evident. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Harry sporting an erection. Hell, he'd seen the man arse naked. He sighed.

"It's not because he was my first, is it?"

Harry turned to him, glass in hand. "Huh?"

He waved his hand at Harry's tight jeans. "Look at you. You'd probably rush out of here and press Snape up against the nearest wall if you weren't afraid of offending me." The redness  _ was _ a blush that time. "And it does nothing for me. Seeing you like this," he clarified.

Harry took a sip of the whiskey. "Do you want my honest-to-Merlin, Wizard's oath opinion, Ron?"

Ron swallowed, having an idea of what the man was about to say. He nodded.

"I think you're attracted to Malfoy. I think you are letting the past cloud your reasoning. I think you are worried about what others will think. I think it's okay for you to move on. Do you really need to mourn a marriage that was over years ago? I think-" he took a deep breath and looked intently at Ron. "I think Malfoy could be good for you."

Ron gaped at him, and Harry smiled weakly.

"Look, I think we all need a little Slytherin in our lives. They tend to bring out something in us, help us discover who we truly are. And, well, Malfoy's not such a bad guy."

Ron nodded and took a sip of his whiskey.

"Just think on it," Harry said. "Look, Gin's got the kids for Christmas; why don't I come over and keep you company?"

"Don't you want to spend the day with Snape?"

Harry shrugged. "I'll get him that evening. I don't want you to be alone that day, and the family will worry. You know they will. You can either spend the day avoiding Floo calls or getting pissed with me." Harry beamed at him, and Ron chuckled. " 'Atta boy. And maybe I can talk you into reciprocating for New Year's Eve. My place?"

Ron eyed him. "I'll think about it."


	6. Chapter 6

"Last time I was here, you didn't have any decent liquor." Draco shoved a bottle at the brunette, and Potter took it with a broad grin.

"Hello to you too, Malfoy. Come on in. Severus is in the kitchen." He turned and led the way. "Stay out of my panna cotta, you cheater!" he yelled as they made their way to the kitchen. They stepped into the kitchen to see a guilty looking Snape with one finger still in his mouth and dark eyes wide. Draco eyed the half empty dessert dish on the counter. "That's one less for you, Severus Snape," Potter intoned.

Snape pulled the digit from his lips and grabbed a napkin. "It's your own fault, Potter. You know how I am with your desserts."

Potter huffed. "I went to answer the door. It's like you were just _waiting_ for me to step out of the kitchen." He placed the bottle on the counter. "Go get some glasses. Your guest is not overly fond of my personal stores and has gifted us with a better selection. Or some shite like that."

Snape rolled his eyes and caught Draco's. "I've been trying to improve his vocabulary. It's not working."

"Maybe a better incentive?" Draco offered as Snape made his way out of the kitchen.

"I fucking offered to marry the brat, what more does he want?" Snape mumbled under his breath.

Draco turned wide eyes on Potter. "What? Is he serious?"

Potter blushed and held up his left hand to show the silver band. "He asked last week."

Draco smiled at his one-time nemesis. "Congratulations, Potter. I wonder why Scorpius didn't mention it. Surely at least one of your boys would have said something, and I know he's received at least one owl every day."

Harry chuckled. "No doubt Al might have mentioned it: he was fairly excited. James looked a little green though. But we asked them not to tell anyone yet.  I imagine Scorp thought Severus might wish to tell you himself."

"Yes, because I wish to make _such_ a huge show of it," Snape said as he slipped back into the kitchen and placed four glasses on the counter. "It's going to be a whole production with lights and music and such." He twisted the bottle open and poured out three glasses. "Potter is paying for it, you know, so no holds barred."

"Severus. Shut up," Potter told him with a roll of his eyes. "I only meant; tell Malfoy. Boxing Day was a production enough, thank you very much."

Draco took a sip of the smooth bourbon. "Boxing Day?"

"It's a tad hard to hide an engagement ring from Molly Weasley," Snape grimaced. "That lady can spot one from the other side of London."

Potter laughed. "She was waiting at the Floo when we arrived. I still don't know how she knew. She had the kids sitting in the kitchen and everyone else out in the tent so we could tell them first."

Draco took another sip and shook his head. "It'll be time to break the news to the Prophet. I still don't know how you two have managed to keep it from the public for so long. What's it been?"

"A year and a half," Potter said. "This was our second Christmas together. And this year, I actually got him to Floo in," he added with a wink towards the older man.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Is dinner ready yet?"

Draco chuckled at the quick change of topic but had to agree. He had forgone his usual early dinner for the promised late night Scotch eggs and pork pie that Snape raved about.

"Like you have any room to talk. I'm missing a panna cotta because of you."

"As if you didn't make enough. I saw the extra bowl of that stuff, Harry James. I know what you have planned later."

Potter's cheeks flamed red, and Draco was torn between not wanting to know about Potter's sex life and wondering just how kinky Potter really was. "Just wait 'til I leave before you pull out the whip and chains."

Potter's cheeks reddened even more as Snape mumbled something that sounded like "floggers". What the hell? He narrowed his eyes at the two men. "You know what? I don't think I want to know anything else about your sex life. Especially since I'm not getting any."

Potter lifted his brows. "I'm working on it," he mumbled before turning to pull the oven open.

Draco's eyes widened, and he looked over at Snape. The man copied Potter's expression and pushed the still-empty tumbler next to the barely touched bottle, and the two glasses clinked together. Draco felt his stomach flip. _Oh god._ Potter had somehow convinced (tricked?) Ronald into joining them tonight. Surely the man didn't have a clue he was going to be here. And Potter was helping him? He... approved? Draco downed the bourbon as Potter lifted the lid on the dish he'd just pulled from the oven, and a delicious aroma filled the room.

"Fuck, that smells good, Harry." Draco tensed as the rough voice hollered down the hall. "I don't know whose idea it was to run a damn fireworks special on New Year's Eve," Draco looked up as Ronald entered the kitchen, tugging at the buttons of his robe to reveal the tee and jeans beneath, "but you should fire them."

"I don't think I can fire your boss's wife," Potter said as he waved at the cabinet, and plates floated to the table.

"Well, she can work it-" he paused as he finally pulled his robe off and looked up, blue eyes locking onto grey. "Malfoy," the name was barely a whisper on the plump lips, and it sent a shiver down Draco's spine.

"Did you want a drink? Draco brought some excellent bourbon," Potter's voice carried around the kitchen, but Draco didn't think Ronald even heard him as the two men eyed each other greedily, or at least on Draco’s part. The eye contact finally broke when Potter pushed a glass into Ronald's hands, and the man took it and gulped it down. He sputtered and coughed.

"Shite. What is this?"

"It is a very high end bourbon, Weasley," Snape said as he moved to the table and sat down. "Only the best for a Malfoy."

Draco watched the pink fade from the freckled face and wondered what had made the man blanch.

“Sit down, Ron,” Potter said. “I made Scotch eggs.” The red head moved to the table, and Draco followed suit as Potter placed several dishes on the table. “It’s like a midnight picnic. Only it’s inside. And it’s not quite midnight,” Potter added as he sat down.

Ronald chuckled, and Draco let the wonderful sound wash over him. “Is that like your breakfast for dinner, Harry?”

Draco looked up to eye the redhead. “Breakfast for dinner?”

“Hey,” Potter said, and Draco turned to see the man waving a fork at him. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. Pancakes and sausage after a long day at work.” He closed his eyes in mock ecstasy, “Wonderful.”

Draco rolled his eyes and glanced over to see Snape watching his lov- fiancé. “And do you like breakfast for dinner, Snape?”

Snape flashed his eyes to Draco, “It, er, has its merits.”

“And Ron makes a delicious breakfast casserole,” Potter added, and Draco shot his eyes to see the redhead blushing a delicious pink.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a breakfast casserole,” Draco said softly, and blue eyes shot up to meet his.

“Oh, you’ll have to have Ron make you one,” Potter said casually as he stabbed at a Scotch egg and transferred it to his plate. “It’s absolutely delicious when it’s hot. And he makes the absolute best crêpes: With a little cream and fresh strawberries so moist and plump they almost melt in your mouth. ”

“Potter!” Snape snapped, and three eyes turned to the red faced man.

Potter cleared his throat. “Ahem. Well, I just mean, breakfast is good any time of day.”

Draco rolled his eyes. Sweet Merlin, was there _any_ food those two didn’t find sexual? There was a soft chuckle to his right, and he glanced over to see Ronald’s head bowed, a small smirk playing at his lips. His eyes roamed over the freckled profile, and his breath caught as the man wrapped his lips around the sausage and boiled egg. He forced his eyes back to his own plate and attempted to follow the conversation.

“So the sale was successful?” Potter asked.

Ronald snorted. “I don’t know why you would doubt it. You’ll probably be able to fund the entire wedding with your portion of tonight’s intake.”

Draco wondered what Ronald was going on about. Why would Potter be interested in tonight’s profit’s from his brother-in-law’s business?

“We don’t need a big wedding, Weasley,” Snape said. “The immediate family will be big enough.”

“I don’t need to-“

“Dammit, Harry,” Ron growled, “spend the damn money. You’ve touched it a total of three times, and while I’m sure the Goblins appreciate it, the money is yours to spend.”

There was a familiar sigh from Snape. “You know it’s pointless, Weasley. Nothing short of an emergency will make him touch that money.”

“Well, it’s silly. If I had that kind of money…”

“I can-“

“NO!” Ronald and Snape said at the same time. Draco looked between the two men curiously then over at a blushing Potter.  Well, that just went right over his head, didn’t it?

The small group ate in silence for several minutes before Ronald spoke again. “I’m assuming they’ve told you about the engagement, Malfoy?”

Draco blinked at his plate. Merlin, Ronald was talking to him. Actually, purposefully speaking to _him_. He looked up to meet the blue eyes. “Snape may have mentioned it.”

Potter snorted, and Ronald’s lips twitched. “We weren’t allowed to congratulate him. I think he would have abandoned Harry at the Burrow if Harry had let go of him for more than a second.”

“Oh he wasn’t going anywhere,” Potter said slyly. “Not if he-“

“Potter,” Snape snapped again.

Potter chuckled.

“Finally get him to call you ‘Daddy’, Severus?”

There was a gurgling sound, and Draco turned to see Ronald coughing into his glass. He covered his mouth with the napkin and coughed into it.

“Sorry,” Draco mumbled.

The redhead waved his hand. “No. I just didn’t realize it was something we were allowed to talk about.”

“Y _ou_ aren’t,” Snape growled and turned to hiss at Potter. “You _told_ him?”

“No, I did not _tell_ him,” Potter hissed back.

Draco leaned closer to Ronald. “I think we got Potter in trouble.”

Ronald smirked, “Uh oh. No spankings tonight for little Harry.”

Draco snickered and felt the joy swell in his heart at the affable exchange. “Do you suppose he’ll at least warrant detention?”

Ronald’s blue eyes widened. “Detention?” He looked at the two blushing men then back at Draco. “Sweet Merlin, they do that too?”

“Do you two mind not discussing my sex life?” Snape growled.

Draco smiled at the man. “But, Sev, it’s so much fun.”

The man growled. “You can either stop discussing it or you can witness it.”

Draco reared back. As much as he enjoyed teasing the two men he really did _not_ want to see the two going at it. He chanced a glance at Ronald, and the man was drinking down his bourbon, his red face peeking out from behind the glass. Fuck, he looked adorable. Potter cleared his throat and moved the conversation along to safer topics. Draco enjoyed the easy going nature of the late dinner and didn’t mind the few times Potter and Ronald went off on side tangents as he was afforded the opportunity to watch the redhead obliquely as he laughed and joked with his friend. He also noticed Snape took these few opportunities to openly watch his fiancé. Draco felt a pang of envy but pushed it down. After dinner they moved to Potter’s sitting room and were served the panna cotta and tea, liberally laced with bourbon. Draco was careful to drink slowly but noticed Ronald had no such compunction as he poured glass after glass of the bourbon.

An hour later, Draco was getting the definite impression that he and Ronald were no longer welcome at Potter’s house, if the heated looks Snape was sending Potter were any indication.

“I think I should head home before I’m too drunk to Apparate,” Draco said with a small cough.

“ ‘M a’ready too drunk,” Ronald informed them.

“You can crash here,” Potter said with a look of pain on his face.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure he gets home,” he volunteered as he stood. Snape sent him a look of gratitude; the man owed him.

Potter looked unsure, “Oh, um… I don’t know.”

“It’s no problem,” Draco reassured him. He reached a hand down, “Come on, Weasel.”

Ronald took his hand, and Draco hefted him up, “Oh. We goin’ sum’ where?”

Draco pulled the man to the door, and Potter and Snape followed them. “Thanks, Malfoy. I appreciate it.”

He shrugged as Potter pulled the door open, and Draco dragged the man out into the cool air, hoping it would help to sober him up some. “Just don’t give me any details and we’ll call it even,” Draco mumbled. Ronald made to slip and Draco wrapped an arm around the stout torso and slid an arm over his shoulders. Ronald leaned instinctively into him. “Night.”

The two men called their goodbyes, and Draco turned to step from the porch and outside the wards. The door behind him was closed with a little more force than necessary, and Draco rolled his eyes when he heard Potter’s muffled “oh, fuck”.


	7. Chapter 7

“Where do you live now, Weasley?” He asked the man whose nose seemed to be rooting in his hair near his ear.

“I’m not telling you, you sneaky ferret,” his hot breath sending shivers down Draco’s spine. “You might try to sneak in while I’m sleeping and have your way with me again.”

“Whatever,” Draco said, trying to give an air of nonchalance. “You still need somewhere to crash tonight. Harry will kill me if I leave you on the street.”

“Should have left me at Harry’s.” The man turned back to the closed door, and Draco had to tighten his hold before the redhead slipped from him.

“Harry and Snape are newly engaged and need their privacy.”

“They just wanna fuck. God I haven’t had a good fuck in months.” He turned back and leaned in close, his breath hot on Draco’s neck. “You were a good fuck, ferret.”

Draco suppressed a shiver. “Don’t.”

“Didn’t even know I swung that way till I had you under me.” A thick finger slid down his jaw.

“Ron, don’t,” he gasped out, his breath suddenly tight in his chest.

A hot tongue flicked out to caress his ear. “Take me home, Draco.”

“I would if you would tell me where you live,” Draco growled, his cock swelling in his trousers.

“No. Your home. I miss you, Draco.” The finger was sliding over his lips now. “I still dream about you under me. Those sweet sounds you make. The feel of your smooth skin under my fingers.”

“Ron, you’re drunk, and I’m a Slytherin. I _will_ take advantage of you.”

“Good.” Ronald’s lips pressed against the spot just below Draco’s ear that nearly sent him over the edge.

“You’ll regret it,” Draco tried to warn him. “Again.”

“I don’t regret the first time. I was confused.”

“And now, Ron. Are you still confused?” He asked almost desperately, trying to keep the hurt from bleeding through.

“Confused as hell, my little ferret,” Ron whispered as he nuzzled into Draco’s neck. “But I still want you.”  

No one had ever accused Draco of having strength of character. “Fuck. You’d better not sick up on me, Ronald Weasley.”

“Why would I-“

But he was cut off as the world sucked them in; they landed in Draco’s bedroom. It took the redhead a second to stop swaying, but he didn’t look like he was about to spew.

“Where are we?” he asked, sounding a little more clear headed than a minute ago.

“My bedroom. I told you I would take advantage of you.”

Blue eyes darkened with lust, and a shiver went down Draco’s spine. “Good,” the redhead growled as he grabbed Draco’s shirt and pulled him closer, crashing their lips together. Oh, Ronald was going to absolutely _hate_ him tomorrow, but Draco wasn’t about to let him get away again. He threaded his fingers through the shaggy red hair and clutched at the strands as he moaned into the hot mouth. Ronald grabbed his hips and pulled him close, the man’s hard erection digging into Draco’s stomach. Draco moaned and rubbed against him, and Ronald pulled back to suck at his neck. Draco threw his head back, loving the feel of the coarse stubble on his smooth skin.

“Ronald. Ronald, yes,” he gasped as rough lips scraped over his skin.

“Merlin, I love it when you call me that,” he said hoarsely in Draco’s ear. Draco gasped when Ronald’s hands moved to his shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying. He cried out when Ronald bent and sucked in a hard nipple. Fuck he loved it when Ronald was rough, demanding. Ronald was pushing him back, and Draco fell back on his bed; he quickly scooted back as he kicked his shoes off. His breath caught when he saw blue eyes studying him. Ronald licked his lips. “Gods you’re beautiful like that.” Ronald pulled his own shirt off, and Draco studied the broad chest, his cock twitching. Ronald worked at his belt and soon his jeans were hitting the floor along with his shoes. He placed a knee on the bed and bent over like a lion about to pounce. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’m going to break you, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to fuck the hell out of you.” He growled as he climbed over Draco. Draco pressed a hand to the coarse hair that covered the hard chest. “But you can take it, can’t you my little dragon?”

Draco threw his head back on a moan. “Yes. I can take whatever you want to give me, Ronald.”

Ronald growled and attacked Draco’s neck again, and he arched into the hot lips. Draco grasped the bright head of hair and held it to him. “Please. Please,” he whispered. “Touch me, my King.”

Ronald straddled Draco’s hips and reached between them to work Draco’s trousers loose. He pushed them down his hips and pressed his hand to Draco’s aching cock. “I’m not supposed to be gay, Draco. But all I can think about is being inside you, touching you, how much I need you. You haunt my dreams and I hate you for it.” Ronald's voice was husky, and Draco moaned and pressed his cock against Ronald’s hand as it slipped beneath his shorts. “Fuck. I’m not fucking drunk enough for this, Draco.”

Draco grabbed the muscled biceps and held fast, afraid Ronald would leave him. “Please.”

“But you’re just too damn irresistible.” Ronald moved fast then, pushing Draco’s trousers down and his shirt off before pulling his own shorts down and covering Draco’s body. Draco gasped at the skin on skin contact. _This_ , this he remembered. The coarse hair against his chest, the thick cock against his own, that particular smell that was all Ronald. Draco inhaled as Ronald’s lips assaulted his neck and chest. He’d nearly forgotten how gentle those rough hands could be on his skin as Ronald moved over him. Ronald’s hard thigh slipped between his, and Draco opened his legs. His breath caught as Ronald’s hand slid down his thigh and moved to his inner thigh. Draco bent his knees, opening himself for his lover. He grabbed for the jar of lube and pressed it into Ronald’s hands. The redhead didn’t even look as he flipped the lid up and dipped his fingers in, moving back to tease at Draco’s hole.

“I remember, my Dragon. I’ll be gentle.” Draco moaned and arched as the first thick digit slipped in. “God, Draco. So tight,” Ronald moaned against him. Draco was panting as Ronald’s finger slid in and out, the lips moving over his neck. “You’re so fun to prepare, Draco. All those little sounds you make.” A second finger was pushed in and Draco moaned. “Yeah. Just like that.”

“Only for you, Ronald,” Draco moaned.  “No one else can make me feel so good. Oh, yes, that’s it.” He arched as a third finger slid inside him. “Sweet Merlin, Ronald. I need your incredible cock inside me. Need you to fill me.”

The thick fingers were pulled from his aching body, and his eyes fluttered open to see blue eyes watching him as the blunt end of the man’s cock pressed against him. He gasped as Ronald pushed in. “Are you always this fucking tight, Malfoy?”

“Do you like it, Ronald? Do you like being surrounded by my greedy arse?”

“Fuck, yes,” Ronald growled as he pushed in. Draco moaned and arched up.

“So incredible, Ronald. Love having you so deep inside me.” He slid his hands over the coarse hair of the hard chest. “Love it when you fuck me.” Ronald was thrusting hard into him now, and Draco was moaning and mumbling only Merlin knew what to the incredible man that was fucking him. Hard and fast and Draco was hanging on for dear life; legs wrapped around the thick waist, hands clutching to freckle-covered skin. “Yes. Yes. Harder. More. So incredible. So fucking wonderful, Ronald. Oh god. I’m going to come, Ronald.” The man grunted and thrust faster, hitting Draco’s prostate over and over. Draco arched as his body tightened, and he spilled himself over his stomach, screaming Ronald’s name, and begging the man to fill him with his come.

Ronald gasped. “Fuck, Draco. Yes.” He thrust once more before Draco felt the familiar warmth spilling inside in. He groaned.

“Love feeling you coming in my arse, Ronald. So fucking incredible.” The man collapsed beside him.

“You’re pretty incredible yourself, Ferret.” He wrapped an arm around Draco and pulled him close. He pressed a kiss to Draco’s neck and a minute later was snoring softly. Draco curled into the warm body and drifted off with a smile on his face.

                                                                                           

Ron curled around the slender figure beside him, bony chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. He wondered if this was how Harry felt curled up next to Snape. Was this what Harry had felt like waking up to Snape that first time? Like finding a missing piece of yourself? He thought back to Draco’s cries the night before, the glorious things he’d said to Ron. Ron had always known he was insecure: wasn’t that what all those fights with Harry had been about as they were growing up?  But somehow, being with Draco, the man had a way of boosting his ego like none other. Like the man knew exactly what to say. It was more of a turn on than anything Ron had experienced before. He sighed, tired of fighting the inevitable. They had been heading this direction since… when? How long had their interactions been laced with sexual frustration? He sighed softly, his breath wafting the blonde strands against the pale neck.

“Are you leaving me again?” Draco asked softly.

He pressed a kiss to the exposed nape. “No. I know when to admit defeat.”

Draco turned in Ron’s arms and looked up at him. Ron studied the soft grey eyes, remembering how they’d darkened with passion. “Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ron asked, worry spreading through his body. “What? I’m good enough for a drunk fuck, but now it’s morning, and I should really leave? Is that it?” He pulled from Malfoy. Trust the prat to use him and toss him aside. He sat up and reached down for his pants. A firm hand on his arm stopped him, and he felt Malfoy sit up. He refused to turn and look at the exposed torso he’d nipped and sucked at last night.

“No, that’s not it at all,” Draco’s soft voice a soothing balm to easily bruised ego. “Fuck, Weasley, if it were up to me I’d keep you forever and give you anything you wanted. I just don’t want you to wake up and realize it was all a drunken mistake.”

Ron turned to look into the pleading grey eyes. “I knew what I was doing and,” he paused and took a shuddering breath, “dammit, I just didn’t care. I don’t care anymore if it’s not what I thought I wanted. I don’t care anymore if it’s not what everyone expects.” Ron thought back over the months he agonized with guilt over what he had done, disgust with himself for wanting it again. How persistent Draco had been, how he had secretly reveled in it; that someone could actually want him enough to chase after him. The endless nights thinking over what Harry had said. Ron had known for weeks he only needed a small push. If Draco had shown himself at all over the last month, Ron had known he would be lost. “If you think you can handle being with a Weasley, I want to try. I like being your King, little ferret,” he added in a softer tone as he turned and reached a hand out to stroke Draco’s arm.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted, Ronald.” Draco looked up at him and he felt his chest tighten.

“I- I’m not perfect, Draco. I still have nightmares, I’m not sophisticated, I don’t wear designer robes or hop a portkey to Paris when the fancy strikes. I have a large family that has no concept of personal space. I work in a joke shop. I have a daughter that’s as much a know-it-all as her mother, and a son who is nosier than Harry ever was.”

“Ronald, are you trying to convince me or scare me off? Because, if you’re trying to scare me off, it won’t work. I-“ a soft blush spread over the pale cheeks. “I know all about you, Ronald. Hell, I’ve been obsessed with you for years.” Ron felt his face go red, and Draco smiled at him as he shifted closer and the sheet slid further down to reveal a white thigh. Ron shuddered at the memory of those strong thighs wrapped around his waist. “I want to take care of you, Ronald. I want to spoil you and take you shopping in Paris. I want to buy you an entire quidditch team. Hell, I’ll even buy you your precious Cannons if that’s what you want. I want to dress you in the most exquisite designer robes and take you to the opera or theatre or just dinner in the most expensive restaurant in London. And not because I want to impress you, I mean I do, but,” he waved the rest of the sentence aside. “And not because I want to buy your love or because I’m ashamed of how you look; I’m not. I want to do all that because you deserve it. You deserve to be treated like a king and I-“ Draco took a steadying breath. “You were always my king, Weasley.”

Ron ran a finger down Draco’s strong jaw line. “And you were always the Slytherin Prince, weren’t you, my little dragon? I don’t know where this is going, Draco. I don’t know if we’ll kill each other or if we’ll be as successful as Harry and Snape. But I know I feel things with you I’ve never felt before. I know I love the way you treat me. The things you say,” he shuddered. “You teach me things about myself, and I like that. I like you,” he smirked at the blonde, “and I’m willing to put up with the lavish gifts as long as it means I get to be with you.” He leaned forward and pressed Draco back down against the bed and moved over him, his half-hard erection pressing against the one under the sheet.

Draco wound slender arms around his neck and pulled him closer with a sly smile. “I think I can live with that.”

Ron covered his mouth and pushed his tongue inside to taste the other man and pressed his hips down as his cock hardened. His tongue thrust into the mouth as his hips undulated against the other man’s. Draco pulled back with a gasp.

“Ronald.” He looked down into the dark grey eyes. “Do all the gifts have to be monetary?”

Ron blinked at the man. “Huh? No. I was only teasing, I-“ His words were cut off by his gasp when Draco’s hips jerked up against his.

“Good. Because there’s one gift I’ve been dying to give you.” Ron looked questioningly down at him. “Roll over on your back.” He furrowed his brows but did as the man asked, and soon the blonde was kissing his way down Ron’s torso. It soon became very evident exactly what gift the man wanted to give Ron. His breath caught in his chest, and Ron thought he could get used to these kinds of gifts as the mouth closed over him.


	8. Epilogue

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, former professor of Transfiguration, Former Head of Gryffindor House, and current guest at the Potter-Snape wedding, sipped at her cordial, and leaned back into the well-cushioned chair. She was too old to be on the dance floor but was not too old to sit back and watch the dancers. She figured about ninety percent of the wedding attendees had passed through her classroom. The other ten percent were well on their way. Okay, so maybe there were ten or so people that hadn’t passed through her classroom for one reason or another, but that was irrelevant; these were still her children. She scanned the large tented area, and her heart gave a soft sigh at the two boys tucked off at one table, their monochromatic heads bent in earnest talks. Even in the candlelight she could see the boys’ blushes as their hands sat clasped on the table top. Across the table from his brother and best friend, James Potter was holding court with a bevy of unattached witches. His sister sat at the furthest end of the head table rolling her eyes at the sight as she conversed with a lithe, blonde boy. Louis Weasley was only the beginning of the Weasley clan. They were all here, from the Gryffintrio all the way up to Victoire who was a stunning sight on the dance floor, the small bulge at her belly barely visible, in the arms of the dark-haired Teddy Lupin. The hair color was an odd sight to be sure, but he loved his godfather and had wished to appear respectable for the wedding. Minerva had no doubts that the hair would once again be some atrocious color before the end of the night.

She also had no doubt Molly and Fleur were round about somewhere, directing the flow of every minor detail. She had seen Ginevra and Oliver Wood earlier and assumed they were still around somewhere, most likely chatting with George and Angelina. She hadn’t been surprised to see Hermione Granger, but had blinked at the addition of Healer Zabini by her side. Minerva supposed the original Golden Trio had come to some sort of agreement for the evening. Or it could have to do with the two men plastered together on the dance floor. She had to admit that Ronald looked exceedingly well in his designer robes, the midnight blue a nice contrast to his ginger coloring. She watched as he threw his head back laughing as Draco Malfoy winced in pain. She shook her head. That man was in for a world of hurt if he thought he could teach Ronald Weasley how to dance. But, she had to admit, she’d never seen the redhead look so relaxed or happy. In the few months since the Gryffindor had started seeing the Slytherin, it was quite obvious the man’s confidence had boosted considerately. Oh, she knew they had some considerable rows, had heard all about the previous week’s to-do in the middle of Diagon Alley from Melinda at the Owl Emporium, but Clarinda from Sugarplum’s had mentioned the large order sent to Malfoy manor that same afternoon. She had a feeling things would work out just fine for them.

Her eyes landed on the couple in the middle of the dance floor, oblivious to all but each other. It had been a beautiful wedding. A traditional Wizarding wedding; both grooms had worn formal robes, Harry’s an emerald green that off-set his eyes beautifully and Severus a shimmering black with silver piping and buttons. Their love for each other was evident as they’d spoken their vows and exchanged rings. The kiss had elicited an array of responses, represented in the three Potter children as James had cringed visibly and gagged, Albus had merely smirked, and young Lily had squealed in glee. Other Weasleys and the like had whistled, there had been sniffs of emotions, and soft exclamations of  “sweet Merlin, he actually  _ kissed _ Snape” which had made Minerva chuckle. And now, almost an hour later, the two men were wrapped up in each other as they twirled around the dance floor. Harry said something and Severus smiled softly down at the man in his arms. Whatever his reply made Harry blush brightly, and Minerva’s eyes widened as Severus’s hand slid down Harry’s back to cup the man’s rear and pull him closer.

“Well, it seems to all be working out okay.”

She looked up at the gravelly voice and watched Hooch slide into the seat beside her. “Evening, Rolanda. Enjoying the wedding?”

She gave a terse nod. “It is exceptional. I heard Potter gave Molly a blank check with the simple plea to not ask him or Severus to make any decisions.” Minerva nodded. That had been the gist of the story she had gotten from Harry as well. “Look at them,” Rolanda said as she waved her hand to the dance floor.

Minerva looked up to see Scorpius had finally dragged Albus onto the dance floor, and the two boys were awkwardly dancing to the slow song pouring through the tent. Draco leaned over and commented to his son, and the four adults laughed at the blushing boys and Harry said something to Ron.

“Would you have ever thought to see such a combination of Malfoys and Potters?” Rolanda asked.

Minerva shook her head. No, but then, one never knew what to expect when you mixed Slytherins and Gryffindors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it. I think this last one could have been better, but I had a hard time getting the story to where I wanted it to go and had to force myself to finish it. Hope you don't totally hate it. Thanks for all the reviews. :)


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